


Daybreak/Moondown

by inkouragement



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with resolution, Gen, M/M, Marauders era, Mildly Graphic Violence, Padfoot - Freeform, Sort Of, aftermath of sirius' prank, could you say this is a character study?, during transformation, friends to enemies to friends to potential lovers, not necessarily fluff but but theyre okay at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 20:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17393507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkouragement/pseuds/inkouragement
Summary: For the first time in a while, Sirius is allowed to come along with Remus during his transformation. Things have been tense after Sirius' prank, and their friendship is at a breaking point. When their conflict comes to a head during the full moon, Sirius must realise some important things both in order to mend their relationship, and to survive to see the sunrise."His claws left deep marks in the earth as he ran, following in the trail of the wolf ahead of him. The world flashed by in all the yellows and blues and violets his dog eyes had to offer, the light of the full moon streaking the grey of the nighttime with dark colour. Moony ran harder, panting and growling as he sped up, and Padfoot took up the wordless challenge from his companion like it was as natural as breathing. Wormtail wasn’t there, and neither was Prongs: it was just the two of them and the near endless stretch of forest ahead."





	Daybreak/Moondown

**Author's Note:**

> This one feels like it's a little more ambitious than my fics so far, so let me know what you think! I thought it would be interesting to explore Sirius' thought process with regards to the Prank with Snape. It never made sense to me why he would do something like that when it would obviously hurt Remus and get all of them in terrible trouble, not to mention the fact that Snape would have definitely either died or been Turned at Remus' hands. As flawed as Sirius is, I didn't think he would purposefully do something that terrible, so this is my attempt at making sense of these events.
> 
>  
> 
> The same goes for Remus; if I were him I would have never forgiven Sirius. It does make sense for his character to ultimately let it go, I think. Remus is too scared of losing his friends and too insecure to think he could ever make new ones that to me, at least, it somewhat makes sense that he'd eventually find a reason to forgive Sirius.
> 
> I've also taken a few small liberties with how lycanthropy works within the HP universe because, well, this is fic. I do what I want.
> 
>  
> 
> Enough of me rambling! Enjoy!

His claws left deep marks in the earth as he ran, following in the trail of the wolf ahead of him. The world flashed by in all the yellows and blues and violets his dog eyes had to offer, the light of the full moon streaking the grey of the nighttime with dark colour. Moony ran harder, panting and growling as he sped up, and Padfoot took up the wordless challenge from his companion like it was as natural as breathing. Wormtail wasn’t there, and neither was Prongs: it was just the two of them and the near endless stretch of forest ahead.

  
He growled. - Moony, do you smell that? -

A musky smell disturbed the earthy scent of decaying leaves and the fresh sap of bruised plants. Rabbits. He could almost see the traces of them in the footprints they’d left, so fresh was the scent rising up from the dirt. Moony came to a standstill, and threw his head back. Padfoot was expecting him to howl, but he stuck his nose in the air and sniffed, and in one fluid motion he curled his back, tensed his limbs and leapt into the underbrush. Immediately, the thick, rusty scent of blood wafted in Padfoot’s direction and filled his nose. He jumped in excitement and wagged his tail as Moony carried the rabbit’s limp little body between his teeth out into the clearing, dropping it onto the ground between them. A gift? He tried to tear a piece off, but the wolf laid a paw on it before he could reach it. Not for him, then. That was alright; Padfoot could hunt. He didn’t need Moony’s charity! He shook his head and growled, and the wolf swished his tail and turned away from him in the way that meant a shrug. Padfoot huffed and stalked off in the direction of the scent trail.

  
They never hunted when Prongs and Wormtail were there – stags didn’t care for it, and Wormtail, being very small and also a rat, could only watch and cheer the others on. The hunt was for Moony and him, although now after their falling out, it was a lot less fun. The wolf still seemed to want his companionship even if Remus didn’t, but their usual symbiosis was now punctuated by moments of snappy animosity on the wolf’s side. There was something sharper about how he treated Padfoot, as if either Moony or the wolf occasionally remembered they weren’t supposed to like him.

  
The rabbits that had been in the bushes at first had fled after Moony’s attack, but they’d left a trail that led right to their burrow. He could see the rabbits crowding around the entrance, hurrying into the tunnel one by one and he couldn’t help but bare his teeth into a grin as he prepared to jump, and the pure exhilaration of the hunt overtook his senses, his heart pounding in time with the tapping of rabbit’s feet. He realised it was strangely reminiscent of what getting a good hit in on Snivellus had been like, back before the Incident, until the thought floated back to the forgotten part of his consciousness where Sirius resided.

  
The blood wasn’t red when he was seeing through the dog’s colour-blind eyes, and maybe that’s why it was so easy to snap the little necks between his jaws and not to care when the warm liquid dripped from the wounds and into his mouth, and down his throat, or about how they squirmed and struggled before finally capitulating to him. He could hear the anxious breaths of the surviving rabbits and the pounding of their tiny hearts, and their feet against the ground as they fled from him, and he felt better than ever. One of the rabbits was still between his teeth, two more were at his feet on the forest floor. He gathered them up and hurried back to the clearing where he’d left Moony.

  
He reached the treeline, but he couldn’t see Moony anywhere, though his smell was still all over the clearing. There was a patch of earth where it looked and smelled like Moony had rolled around in the grass, but after that he couldn’t find a trail. Where was he? Padfoot barked, his tail upright, and his ears pricked for any possible sound Moony might make. Padfoot abandoned his precious rabbits and began running around the clearing looking for a sign of him. A faint awareness of responsibility began to creep in, his mind turning more human with every worried second. He was supposed to protect Moony from the wolf and from the other things in the forest, but thoughts and words tended to turn fuzzy in his dog brain, and the momentary excitement of the pursuit of prey had been enough to distract him. _I should know better by now_ , he thought. And then another thought popped up: _Maybe if I find him and save him now he’ll finally forgive me._  
It wasn’t that he was hoping Moony was in danger, he told himself, but it would be damned convenient if he could heroically come to the rescue, because maybe that would mean Remus would sit next to him during class again, or talk to him, or look him in the eye for more than a split second. It had been months, why hadn’t Remus gotten over it yet?

  
-Moony!- he barked. -Moony!?-

  
He heard nothing but the pounding of his own heart and a faint rustling of leaves, but there was no way of telling if that was the wind in the trees or something else. Suddenly he heard something behind him, and before he could react he felt jagged lines of pain scratch along his sides, and a weight on his back pushing him to the ground with a thud. He thrashed around and flailed his limbs blindly until his attacker’s hold on him loosened, then bucked and threw them off his back, sending them flying into the brush. He jumped onto his feet, adrenaline pumping through his veins and ready to tear his assailant to pieces when he noticed that he looked a lot like Moony. It was as if his vision was overlaid with something - his nose was telling him something different than his eyes. He smelled rabbit’s blood, grass, mud, and then, for a split second, a trace of Moony. Now that he’d noticed it it seemed obvious, and Moony’s smell overpowered all the other input.

Moony stood before him, covered in dirt and blood, and barking in short bursts as if he were laughing at Padfoot. A prank - maybe they were even now! He barked happily, ran straight at Moony’s flank and tackled him to the ground. Moony let out a whimper and another growling wolf-laugh, and threw Padfoot off him. He landed on his feet and padded back over to Moony, snapping playfully at him and nuzzling his snout against the wolf’s neck. Moony nipped at his ear, and Padfoot wasn’t sure if the wolf had broken skin on purpose or not, but he didn’t care. He pushed him and when Moony ran off again, he followed. They fought while running, Padfoot shoving and pushing Moony around, and the wolf swiping a claw back at him every once in a while. They ran straight into a nearby stream, howling with joy, and a flock of terrified birds took off from the leafless branches of a huge oak nearby. They splashed their tails around in the ice-cold water and made futile efforts biting and swiping at the passing fish, which were too quick and slippery to catch but made for fun targets.

  
After a while of swimming and terrifying the river animals, Moony got out and took off running back to the clearing. Padfoot barked for him to wait, jumped into the grass, shook the water out of his fur, and went after him. When he arrived, Moony was nearly done scarfing down the rabbits Padfoot had left behind, and before Padfoot could catch up, he was already speeding off again. Padfoot filled with excitement – a true chase! He took off after the wolf, leaping recklessly and weaving through the trees after the grey blur that was Moony.

  
His lungs burned and his muscles ached: how he’d missed this! Remus hadn’t wanted him to come along anymore on these nights, but there hadn’t been a choice now that James was in the infirmary with a Quidditch injury and Peter, oh miracle of miracles, was going on his first ever date. It was the first time in three months that he got to have this with Moony, and perhaps it would also be the last, so he had to make the most of tonight.

He ran harder, sending dried leaves flying and small creatures running where he went. The moon was low in the sky now, denoting the last hour of Remus’ transformation for the month. Moony led him down a hillside into a rounded valley, and Padfoot sprinted as hard as his body would allow him to catch up. By the time he did, his breath was coming in ragged, uneven pants, and still he wasn’t ahead. A last, desperate effort put him in front of Moony, and just when he was feeling proud of himself, he realised he’d made a mistake. He had shown himself to be a true rival to Moony’s strength, and now the wolf in his friend was rising to his challenge. There was a shift in the air, the light, cool breeze turning to a frigid, oppressive stillness. It was more than just the challenge, Sirius realised. There was contempt in the wolf’s expression, the way he set his jaw revealing an anger that ran deeper than some spur-of-the-moment rivalry.

The valley was cast in the strange hues of the morning twilight, the orange and red turning to disorienting violet and muted blue through Padfoot’s eyes. The wolf growled, a blur of greyish purple, his yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight and his head cocked as if he was thinking. Padfoot stood as still as a rabbit, and forced down the trembling in his torso and limbs. A glint of intelligence passed over the wolf’s eyes, and his back arched in that familiar position. He launched himself at Padfoot, who moved out of the way just in time. Moony crashed into the ground at the very bottom of the valley, and now Padfoot had the high ground. He hesitated, taking a few seconds to catch his breath, but that was all it took for the wolf to get back up and prepare a second attack. This time, Padfoot wasn’t fast enough to dodge it. The wolf crashed straight into him, pinning him down on his back and tearing at his skin and rabidly biting wherever he could. Padfoot held him off as best he could, turned his eyes to the moon, which was now only a half hour away from touching the horizon, and hoped for the best. In his Animagus form, the wolf couldn’t Turn him, but there were no such guarantees about lethal injury. If Moony decided to kill him and Padfoot slipped up for even a moment, that was it, he’d be over and done for. Fear came rushing in, unhelpfully turning to panic, and his movements became more erratic and less strategic. Capacity for rational thought had always been his one leg up from the wolf, and now he was losing that, too.

  
Their struggle continued for a while, though to Padfoot it seemed to be taking both an eternity and no time at all. They were quite evenly matched when it came to physical strength, but the wolf was fuelled by tireless rage and magic, a creature of pure emotion and instinct, whereas Padfoot, who was for the most part an ordinary dog with a teenager’s intellect, was beginning to run out of energy quite fast. In a last display of strength he managed to get out from under Moony, and ran down along the valley until he collapsed. The shock had prevented him from thinking so far, but now that the effect of the adrenaline was wearing off he could feel Sirius in his head, trying to climb back into the driver’s seat. He opened his eyes and saw Moony, prowling in a circle around his fallen form. The blood drenching Padfoot’s fur was beginning to turn viscous, and when he moved he could feel the matted, sticky hair restricting his movement. The smell of sweat and terror hung thick in the air around them.

  
He moved to get up, and Moony growled. He whined obediently, and laid down again, though he did not believe acting submissive would placate the wolf. His mind raced. If the wolf hurt Padfoot, Remus would never be able to forgive himself. He wouldn’t ever let himself near anyone again, full moon or not – Sirius knew how he got sometimes, all self-deprecating, talking about himself as if he were some kind of monster.

  
He yelped when the wolf slashed at his jaw, and he tasted blood. He called the wolf Moony, and to an extent, he was, but right now there was no Moony in there. Right now he was all beast, and any trace of Remus that usually remained in his wolf form had been covered and crushed by the creature’s rage. Remus, who was the only one of them who carefully tied his uniform tie in the morning and who had drawn most of their sketches of the Map they were working on because he had the most patience and the most graceful and controlled penmanship, who, at least to their faces, addressed professors respectfully, who never slipped up in his spellwork for pranks lest he be caught, or tried to stand out from the crowd except in excelling at his schoolwork, that poised Remus had nothing at all in common with the wolf that overtook him once a month. And yet, Remus blamed himself for anything he did in his wolf form – Sirius had never understood it. His depressive moods each month after his transformation, where he went quiet and withdrawn, sometimes not opening the curtains of his four-poster for hours or days on end: Remus’ attitude mystified him. Still, right now it didn’t matter if he understood or not. Another claw tore through the skin on his dog belly, and he squealed. All that mattered was to stop the wolf from hurting him, so Remus would not feel guilty. His lungs burned from exertion, and blood gushed from the wounds on his neck and stomach, but he continued his feverish defence.

  
Suddenly it dawned on him how horrific it would have been for Remus to have hurt Snape as the wolf. He couldn’t care less about what happened to Snivellus Snape, who could fall in the Lake and die for all he cared, but Remus would never have been able to forgive himself. It didn’t make sense – Remus wasn’t the wolf, something else was in control when he transformed – but that was how Remus viewed it. It felt as if a panel in his mind had opened, and through it he could see his actions from that other viewpoint.

He felt sick. He had almost made his friend a murderer.

  
He deflected another claw and tried to hold the wolf’s maw at a distance with his other paw, but the teeth were inching ever closer to his neck.  
It was getting harder and harder to hold onto his Animagus form as the adrenaline faded and the pain intensified, and suddenly he was lying naked on his human stomach, his hands buried in the grass and holding back a sob. He looked up, and now, with his human eyes, he could see the red in the sky, on himself, on the wolf, who was still showing no signs of backing off. The sun wasn’t coming up quite yet, but the soft gold and deep pink and red in the east backlit him, and all Sirius could make out from his silhouette were his glowing yellow eyes.

  
“Remus,” he said softly, and tried to sit up. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I understand why you’d want to hurt me.”

  
The wolf hurled itself at Sirius, not understanding and not caring about his words, and he felt claws digging deep into his flesh and hot wet breath at his throat. The weight of the wolf was so much harder to bear now that he was in his human form, and all he could do without being crushed was to lie still and try not to panic. He shut his eyes tight and mumbled to block out the sound of the wolf growling by his ear.

  
“I didn’t mean for it to go that far, alright? I need you back, don’t kill me, don’t kill me and please, please, talk to me again…”

  
The weight on his chest shrunk and the growling turned to pained howls. Sirius opened his eyes to find Remus lying on his chest, half-returned to his human body and thrashing from the painful transformation. Instinctively, Sirius put his arms around him, and held him while Moony sobbed and grunted, until he was just Remus, and the first slender rays of sunlight illuminated his gaunt and exhausted face.

  
“Are you ill, Black?,” he mumbled, his feverishly hot cheek resting on Sirius’ bare chest. “You’ve never said ‘please’ in your entire damned life.” He lifted his head to look Sirius in the eye. The last remaining traces of the wolf still lingered – his eyes were bright and golden, and Sirius could see the slight bulge of fangs under his lips. They were so close, their bodies entangled in a way Sirius had selfishly imagined a thousand times, except in those fantasies he usually had not just been nearly mauled. They would be in Sirius’ canopy bed in their room in Gryffindor Tower, the curtains closed around them, Remus stroking his cheek and kissing him, or in a broom closet somewhere, or sometimes, when Sirius allowed himself to indulge, in a bedroom in a London apartment near Diagon Alley, with room for a lot of bookcases and a garage nearby for a motorcycle. Sirius wanted to obliviate them both, so they could forget about what he’d done and what possible futures he had broken, and stay close like this forever.

  
“Moony- Remus, I-,” Sirius tried. He didn’t know how to continue. Remus rolled off of him and onto the grass beside him and began dry heaving. The sudden cool air on his naked skin was like a cold shower, and Sirius could finally focus on trying to get the words out of his mouth that were swimming around in his head. I’m a terrible friend. I’ll do better. I’m sorry. He knew Remus wouldn’t remember many details from his time as the wolf. He needed to say it again, before he lost the nerve to do it.

  
“Shit, Sirius, what happened?” Too late - Remus had sat up and was now looking at the wound on Sirius’ stomach, which was not necessarily the most painful one but which looked the most gruesome. His eyes were wide, and his face turned grey. “Did I bite you?” His trembling hands hovered over Sirius’ stomach, then moved to the tear in his bicep. He made a motion to touch Sirius’ bloodied face, but stopped half an inch away.

  
“It’s nothing, Moony, you didn’t Turn me. It was just claws while I was human, no harm done.” As he said that, Sirius could feel the pain setting in with the fading adrenaline. He hissed when Remus gingerly put his hand to the wound on Sirius’ neck, but he enjoyed how intimate the gesture felt. It was almost as if things were normal.

 

“It’s not nothing. You’re bleeding, I’m sorry,” Remus said in a small voice. He sounded so sad and tired, and guilt filled Sirius’ chest like a thick, cold liquid, until it became hard to breathe.  
“It was my fault. The wolf… he understood that I’d hurt you, I think. Even if he didn’t remember what happened exactly. And I didn’t get it, how… how bad it was, until now.” He stumbled through the sentence, but Remus was quiet and didn’t try to interject. He wasn’t looking at Sirius.  
“I supposed I just thought that- well, I wasn’t thinking, but what I thought was that since you wouldn’t remember what the wolf did, you wouldn’t… mind.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, and gone was the moment of understanding. “You thought I wouldn’t mind killing Snape?” He leaned back away from Sirius subtly, and cold air filled the space between them. Sirius scrambled to explain himself, before Remus would return to ignoring him.  
“It wasn’t like that! I just wanted to scare him, I-” he tried, but Remus raised a hand. He looked furious.  
“It wasn’t like that? I can’t believe you! Snape could have died, I could have killed him! Or, even if he’d survived, people would have found out I was a Dark creature and I would’ve been expelled, sent to Azkaban! Even Dumbledore wouldn’t defend a werewolf who has killed.” Remus had stood up and was pacing on the dewy grass.  
“But you’re not a Dark Creature,” Sirius said. He looked up at Remus, who’d stopped dead in his tracks.  
“What?,” Remus said, turning his head towards him with sharp annoyance. “Don’t patronise me. I’m a werewolf, you have the proof all over your body. I’m told your intelligence is your only redeeming quality, don’t tell me you’ve gone stupid as well as insufferable.”  
“But that’s the wolf. You’re human, Moony. Your… furry little problem, that’s just the lycanthropy!,” Sirius said, annoyed with Remus’ eternal unnecessary self-loathing.  
Remus laughed, perhaps a bit on the maniacal side.  
“You don’t really believe that, do you? Do you think anyone else sees it like that? Do you think I would be here at Hogwarts if it weren’t for Dumbledore? Half the wizarding world would have my head, and then Dumbledore’s, if it got out that he let something like me into the school.” He winced as he tried to gesticulate – Sirius wasn’t the only one who had gotten scratched up in the fight. They really needed to get to the infirmary, or at least to the Shack to get their wands and patch themselves up, but this was the first time they’d really talked about what had happened in three months, and Sirius wasn’t about to let an opportunity for reconciliation pass them by.

 

“Well, they’re wrong.” Sirius lifted his chin defiantly. “And you’re not a something,” he added. “You need to stop thinking of yourself as an animal. You’re more civilised than me, Peter and James combined.”

“That isn’t saying much,” Remus replied coldly. He paused, seemingly trying to compose himself before continuing. “And besides, that’s not what this is about. I trusted you, and I thought you were my friend and then you used me.” Remus’ eyes were red-rimmed and his face and chest were flushed red so the pale stretches of his scars stood out even more than usual. “You endangered me and the boy you like to bully just because you thought it would be funny.”

  
“I never wanted to hurt you! I told you, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t realise Sniv- Snape would have… y’know.” He didn’t want to say the word _died_. Speaking it would be an admission of guilt, and though he knew he was to blame, that was an entirely different thing from admitting it. Sirius stood up and reached out to Remus, trying for a handshake, or a hug, or some kind of reassurance from Remus that things would be okay between them. Remus didn’t even acknowledge the gesture, so Sirius awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck instead.  
“I guess I should probably… I should apologise.”

Remus looked at him expectantly. Sirius swallowed. When he’d apologised to the wolf earlier, what he had meant was that he was sorry things had turned out the way that they did. He had been sorry Remus was upset, which was still true, but he hadn’t truly regretted his actions. Now, it was harder to say the words because he’d have to acknowledge that he had made such a colossal error in judgement, a mistake of truly epic proportions.

  
“So, uh. Here goes.” He looked at Remus, who glanced away. “I’m sorry I did that to you. It was a horrible thing to do to a friend. If Prongs hadn’t- well. I’m sorry.” Not for the Snape thing, he added to himself, just you. Remus wouldn’t like it if he said that out loud so he didn’t, but they both knew it was true.

There was a silence, punctuated by the morning singing of the birds. Sirius waited tensely for a reply from Remus, who still wasn’t looking at him, but none came. It felt as if Remus was expecting more from him, and he stumbled to fill the expectation without knowing what he was going to say next.

  
“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me again. If I had caused you to…” he swallowed. “To kill Snape, the consequences would have been- I was careless and inconsiderate. But. I’d like for us to be friends again, if you can bear it.” Sirius traced shapes in the dirt with his fingernail, trying to work up the courage to look at Remus again. When he did, he saw a slight, reluctant smile lurking in the corner of Remus’ mouth. He was also frowning, as if trying not to give in to the impulse.

“Well. I can’t say I forgive you, but, maybe we can try? I’ve…” He breathed. Sirius could see the shifting of every muscle under the pale, scarred skin of his rising and falling shoulders. “I’ve missed you too. And sending messages through James and Peter has been horribly inconvenient.” He moved closer to Sirius and put a hand on his bloodied chest. Sirius barely even winced, which took considerable effort.  
“Merlin, this is terrible. I can’t believe I…”  
Sirius leaned forward and grabbed Remus’ shoulders. Involuntarily, he inhaled sharply when he realised how close they were, but he powered through.  
“Don’t you dare blame yourself, alright?” He gave Remus a bit of a shake, as if to emphasise his point. “None of this,” he leaned forward, “is at all your fault. And anyway, even if you had done it and not the wolf, you’d be well within your rights. An eye for an eye, yeah?”  
Somewhere between all of those words, Remus’ face had ended up just two inches from his, their chests almost touching, with only Remus’ hand on his pectoral separating them.

  
“An eye for an eye.” Remus touched the bloody scrape under Sirius’ eye. He shuddered. “Alright.”

  
Sirius blinked, and his eyelashes brushed against Remus’ index finger. For a brief moment, Remus' gaze flickered down to Sirius’ lips. Sirius breathed in, suddenly afraid of disturbing this moment. He was light-headed from blood loss, but he forced himself to stay upright.

  
Remus moved forward in hesitating jerks, but he moved forward nonetheless, and then they were touching skin to skin, and Remus’ half-open mouth was half an inch from Sirius’ lips, and Sirius sat frozen like a statue as he felt Remus’ breath on his mouth and the light touch of fingertips on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes. For a fraction of a second, there was the faintest brush of their lips, but then there was cold air against Sirius’ mouth, and he felt the bone of Remus’ chin digging into on his shoulder, his face buried in the crook of his neck and hot tears dripping down his back. The salt of them stung his torn flesh. He opened his eyes and embraced his shaking friend, who hugged back, and then they were just two confused, terrified and blood-slick teenagers holding on to each other in the dewy morning grass.

  
“I won’t forget, and I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Remus said, a little while later. “But I’ll try, I think.”

  
Sirius opened his eyes and curled up closer to Remus’ side. The sunlight was warm now, and the dew had evaporated. The grass around them was still red with their blood.

  
“Thank you.”

  
Slowly, they got up and walked back to the Shack before the rest of the world woke up, leaning on each other all the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm interested to hear people's thoughts on this - I'm feeling the urge to go back and edit everything, but I don't think I'll ever get it just the way I want it to be. I hope you all enjoyed it anyway!


End file.
